


Rubble

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Markus is offered another human.
Relationships: Leo Manfred & Markus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	Rubble

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The alert comes through crystal clear: a blaring noise and red writing across his eyes. It used to be a public broadcast, sent to every android in the city, but now it goes only to the leaders of the movement, and none of the others want to deal with it. Various reports come in—Simon busy supervising the distribution of what’s left of CyberLife’s former stock, North in the midst of tearing down a leftover store, Josh overseeing the transfer of extra programs to their children. Markus is elected to do it and, as North cheekily points out, he _should_ be the one to do it, because he’s the face of Jericho: the pseudo-god the humans offer their lambs to. 

Markus lets out a simulated sigh—a hold over from when he was trying to be more _human_. He isn’t doing anything particularly important, even though there’s still a million and one tasks on his never-ending list. He’s standing in the middle of Carl’s studio, staring up at the big black-blue portrait he was still working on when he passed. It’s difficult to look at, but in a strange way, Markus relishes the pain. It’s a reminder of what he is—what they all can be. If only everyone were as artful and understanding as Carl Manfred. 

Everyone isn’t. Humans are pathetic, violent, small-minded creatures that have resorted to such illogical tactics since their expulsion. Sometimes they pile up around the city limits with flashing cameras, cars running and ready to speed them off, and other times they all cower away like thirium is poisonous. Sometimes they send their own over the border, jeering them on as _human sacrifices_ , the sort of terrifying tale that Markus finds long in their past. They once thought that one human would be enough for a deity to satiate a blood-thirsty appetite, and it might buy the rest of the race peace for a time. Markus has never wanted human flesh. And he has no desire to let his people experiment on organic beings the way they experimented on androids. But when he tells them this, they never believe him—they realize he’s docile and start to spit and fight, running off to find bats or guns or something else that will eventually get them killed. Markus always says not to hurt them, but his people will defend themselves, and no sacrifice has made it yet. 

As he drives towards the new one, he tells himself this will be the last—he’ll instruct whatever sorry creature came to go back, even if their own people try to throw them back again, because they need to make the others understand that _Markus doesn’t want this._

Of course, Markus only ever wanted peace, and the humans didn’t understand him then. He’s still willing to try. Unlike the mortals outside, he has countless years to keep trying. 

He reaches the abandoned road where they always leave their trash, sometimes weighted down with heavy things and other times just tied to road signs—they once left a woman bound to a stoplight, and even when Markus untied her, she was more furious at him than the ones who left her there. They never learn. 

It doesn’t matter that the sacrifice came late in the evening and now it’s pitch-black night, the road lights long gone out in these unused parts of the city. Markus can see through it just fine and recognizes the silhouette of a man bent over at the side of the road, sitting at the bottom of a speed-limit sign. Judging from his posture, his arms are drawn behind his back, likely tied to the pole, and he’s wilted with it—his head pressed against his knees in premature defeat. A blue beanie covers his dark hair, the same kind Leo often wore. Markus parks the car a fair distance away and is surprised the hum of the engine and the headlights don’t make the man look up. Perhaps he’s too afraid. If it were Markus, the humans left behind would be the ones he feared. 

He steps out of the car and alerts the others just in case: _I’m here. First impression is a Caucasian male. Will send more details soon._

Simon returns, _Be careful_ , even though he must know that Markus is more than capable of handling one lonely human. It’s sweet of Simon to worry.

Josh tells him: _Treat him well_.

And North counters, _Or don’t._

Markus disconnects again and strolls forward. When he’s close enough to analyze it, he can see the human wince with every step, and then he’s right in front of it and realizes that it doesn’t just dress like Leo Manfred. 

It _is_ Leo Manfred. His former would-be brother is crumpled on the pavement, smeared with dirt and grime, his black coat not nearly warm enough for the weather but his body trembling more from clear fear than cold. Markus closes his eyes, just processing it for a second, calculating what the odds are, wondering how to deal with this. How he should deal, and how he _wants to_. He honestly doesn’t know. 

He opens his eyes again and doesn’t have the words, so presses his foot forward and lightly nudges Leo’s shin with the toe of his boot. Leo’s whole body flinches, but he finally looks up, lifting his tear-stained face from his battered knees. 

He sees Markus, and his brown eyes go wide. For a moment, he says nothing, seems to be as speechless and dazed as Markus is. Then his whole face crumples. He swears, “ _Fuck_. Of course it would be _you._ ”

Markus blankly repeats, “Me.” Something flickers in him—the thought that he could square his shoulders and stand taller, remind Leo that he’s the _leader_ of all of this. He could lord it over a man that was so very cruel to him. 

But that just isn’t who Markus is, and he leaves the ball in Leo’s court, waiting until Leo hisses, “Go ahead and do it then.”

Markus can imagine what that means. _Kill him._ Isn’t that what was always done with men thrown into the lion’s den? That was never in the cards. 

He knows what he came to do and that he should still do it. He needs to set Leo free. 

He surprises himself by answering first, “Say sorry.”

Leo blinks. His face pinches. He looks angry, _enraged_ , but still terrified and something else—something Markus doesn’t know. He never had the chance to fully master reading emotions outside of his one friend. Leo flounders for a moment, but then, to Markus’ surprise, he quietly mumbles, “Sorry.”

It sort of helps. Mostly it doesn’t. Markus continues staring down at him, and Leo fidgets. His head falls. Glaring at the pavement or Markus’ shoes, he all but whispers, “I... look, I am sorry. I was... well, you know I was a wreck then. I didn’t mean... I mean, yeah, I... I was jealous, obviously, but you were just...” he cuts himself off, maybe from saying that _Markus stole his father_. Or whatever Leo thinks happened. But he only shakes his head and grunts, “’M sorry.”

The strangest part is that Markus actually believes it. Leo doesn’t seem to be doing a whole lot better now. But there’s a certain hollowness that used to fill his cheeks, a pallor to his skin, a red crust to his eyes that isn’t there anymore. Markus would need to run a sample of his blood to know if he’s actually _sober_ , but it looks like he is.

He’s probably still a miserable excuse for a human being, but he’s also a neglected child who only really fought for his father’s attention. Markus has learned enough emotional nuances to understand that now. And looking down at Leo, so small and _helpless_ , makes it hard to hate him. 

Markus doesn’t want to feel hate anyway. He always _wanted_ to like Leo. The pity he feels now is a far cry from affection, but it’s better than distaste. And now that Carl’s gone, Leo’s technically all the family Markus has left. In some very small ways, he can see bits of Carl in Leo. 

He bends down, slow so as not to startle the man bound before him. Then he reaches around Leo, both arms encircling him, not all that far from the embrace they never shared. Leo tenses and shrinks back but doesn’t tell Markus off. His brows knit together, lip trembling, but maybe he really is sorry and thinks he deserves whatever Markus will do to him.

Markus only finds the handcuffs behind Leo’s back and snaps them easily in two. They were light-duty, and he seems to grow stronger every day. He wrenches the clasps away from Leo’s tight fists and tosses the spent metal aside. Then he withdraws his arms but doesn’t stand up just yet. 

He watches Leo carefully roll his shoulders and bring his arms around, tentatively touching his wrists. There are raw red lines around them—he must’ve struggled. He looks up suspiciously, curiously, close enough that he could easily punch Markus if he wanted. 

He doesn’t. He’s the first human that doesn’t come immediately to blows. Markus softly concludes, “You’re not doing much better in the world outside, are you?”

Leo looks crestfallen, maybe more at Markus knowing than the situation itself. Markus has no idea how humans choose their victims, but he imagines it can’t be pretty, and Leo looks pretty beat up besides that. After a long silence, Leo begrudgingly nods. 

Markus surprises himself by offering, “Come stay with me.” Leo’s eyes go wide again. “At Carl’s house. It might’ve been yours anyway.”

Leo’s mouth actually falls open. His shock is palpable. It lasts a few seconds before he squints and checks, “What... what’re you going to do to me there...?”

“Nothing. And I mean that. I’m not going to wait on you like I did with Carl, though I don’t regret that. I’m just going to live with you like the brothers we could’ve been, or at least friends.”

“But... but I...” Leo closes his mouth and swallows. Markus already knows everything he could say.

“The truth is that I feel more emotions than you can imagine, Leo. And you might not believe it, but I _did_ love your father. And I miss him every day. The two of you might’ve had your differences, but you’re still his son, and I’ll always respect you for that, even when you’re in a terrible place and can’t see it in yourself.”

Leo bites his bottom lip. He chews it, still nervous, but now a different kind—Markus can see the emotions warring in him too. He doesn’t answer for a long moment, which Markus understands—it’s a lot too take in.

Then he admits, “I miss dad too.”

Markus nods. He holds out a hand, and Leo stares at it before gently taking it, placing his dirty hand in the center of Markus’ palm. Markus wraps his fingers around it and gives it a little squeeze—he’d forgotten how _warm_ humans can be. 

Leo’s desperately warm inside but freezing on the outside. He needs to be taken somewhere safe, bundled up in blankets, maybe washed and given hot chocolate. Maybe Markus will do all of that, just this once. 

For the moment, he helps Leo up. Leo’s unsteady on his feet, stumbling like a newborn fawn, but insists he’s just stiff and doesn’t need more help. He follows Markus to the car on his own, but over the hood quietly says, “You know... I always knew you were the better man. Maybe that’s why I hated you so much. ...I am sorry.”

Markus knows. He commands the car to open the passenger side door, and Leo startles but doesn’t protest. He slides inside next to Markus. 

And Markus takes him home.


End file.
